


warm milk

by miharayas



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family, It's Not As Bad As This Sounds I Promise, Mild mentions of abuse, Nightmares, Not Beta Read: We Die Like August (gunshots), Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 03:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miharayas/pseuds/miharayas
Summary: Sakuya's past still haunts him, visiting like they're old pals.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	warm milk

**Author's Note:**

> sakuya deserves all the love he can possibly get.

It haunts him, in his dreams.

It manifests in the places that he doesn't have control of, and every time it shows up, the feeling of disappointment continues to strike him like a gong.

_Sakuya still has the ghosts of his past visiting him like they're old pals._

He always just shakes it off, letting the feeling seep out of his skin — pretending that once he gets out of his bed, he can leave the cold feeling on his barely-made pillows. He pretends that the voices in his head don't exist, and when he steps outside his bedroom, his head gazing lowly at first before he raises his chin high, he puts on the best smile he can muster to not let anyone worry in MANKAI about him. It works most of the time.

But sometimes, the pain lingers.

Sakuya's used to it — _should be_ — and yet every time the memories decide to make themselves known, he never seems to be ready. The walls he's put up around his fragile heart decide to topple over, and he cannot do anything about it but rebuild it again and try to cover his ears from the hurtful words he's heard from his past.

_You have to leave. You don't belong here. You should know better. We aren't your family._

_This is not your home._

He always tries to not think much of it — to not let it consume his thoughts whole, to not let the whispers affect him and eat at him like a predator devouring his prey. And yet when he lets a single word gets into his brain, he becomes the twelve-year-old he once was, locking himself up in his room (the small attic that his aunt gave him, calling it a room when all it really is was a storage room) before he settles into the very corner, his knees pressed to his chest as he wonders: _will it be like this again, tomorrow? Will I ever find myself happy?_

* * *

He wakes up in sweat, and his hands covering his ears one night. Sakuya knows this is the worst one yet — his cousins are clear in his dream, and he doesn't appreciate the fact that he feels the tingle in his skin as if he was back in that house again. He checks his arms, looking at it tenderly — trying to convince himself that he wasn't getting hit by those older boys again, that he doesn't have to run away when they attempt to throw their books at him for being the "adopted outcast" in _their_ family.

Sakuya sighs in relief, clutching his arms tightly towards himself, hugging it. _He doesn't want to feel that over again._

He's calmed down, but the vivid memories surfacing back do not help him go back to sleep. _Still too open of a wound._ It's been years, and yet he still feels it like it was all merely yesterday. But who could really blame him? He's longed for a place to take him in, to consider him as family, to love him as he would to them.

Every single time, Sakuya gives them his heart wholeheartedly. And every single time, he's only met with papers that aches him to see the most: guardianship transfer papers.

It still hurts. Badly hurts. When was it ever wrong for a child to ask for love?

He shakes out of his thoughts before he checks the clock that hangs on their bedroom wall. He figures it was late, with the window presenting him the clear night sky and the moon shining brightly along with the stars.

2:07AM, he reads. There was no way he would be back to sleep any time soon and he settles that maybe a walk outside could be of help. So he climbs down his bunk, silent not to wake Citron's sleeping figure. He succeeds and finds himself on his way to the kitchen.

The dorm is awfully silent — he was not used to the place so quiet considering that the accommodations usually was bustling 24/7. And yet the day where he finds himself in his solitude was also the day when it seemed that everyone gets some sleep for themselves. How odd, it seems that the heavens really do want him to feel alone.

He walks to the kitchen, and to his surprise, finds someone awake, rummaging the fridge for something to eat, perhaps. The figure stands up, their head finally popping out of the fridge from their deep search of the refrigerator for food.

"Sakuya?" She calls out.

"Oh, director," he replies, walking towards her, and Izumi immediately notices the lack of spring in his step. She wants to think that it was just because he had just risen from slumber, but she knows something is off with the way Sakuya's eyes aren't looking at her.

"Did something happen?" Izumi asks, her voice down to a whisper. She hopes that it can somehow coax him out of his daze, and she inwardly breathes when Sakuya answers her.

His eyes are still darting, but he answers truthfully. "Nightmares," Sakuya whispers back, and he bites down his lip to stop from saying any more. Izumi says nothing, opening the fridge once again to grab the carton of milk on the side, and wordlessly goes to the stove to heat it up. Sakuya just stands, looking at her as she goes.

"Director, what are you doing?" He finally speaks. Izumi meekly replies with a smile on her face. "Warm milk. Hopefully, it helps."

The liquid quickly warms, and Izumi is fast to transfer it from the boiling pot to a mug. She doesn't say anything but hands over the freshly warmed milk to Sakuya.

He takes it, mutters a small thank you, before she leads him to the couch in the living room, settling down in silence as they both look at nothing in particular. The opened windows give them enough air, before it blows, cold.

"Drink it, Sakuya. It will get cold if you don't," she smiles. Sakuya nods and thanks her as he takes a sip of milk from the mug. "It's good," he shares.

"Mm."

The both of them sit in comfortable silence before Izumi decides to break it, her voice filling the air as she speaks.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She tries, and Sakuya's eyes widen and Izumi hurriedly talks again to hopefully salvage the conversation she's killed that hasn't even started yet. "Only if you want to! I'm just... here you know."

Sakuya briefly laughs, and Izumi thinks that maybe she didn't mess up.

"You didn't mess up, Director," he reassures, and Izumi smacks her head for thinking out loud. With this, Sakuya is laughing silently again, and Izumi is maybe thankful for her airheadedness sometimes to see him smiling.

"I just..." Sakuya starts, and Izumi intently listens. "Director... you know how, I'm not exactly... well... wanted at my own house, you know?" He says, and she breathes deeply when she hears Sakuya's voice shaking. Without any more explanation, Izumi knows what he means, but she lets him continue anyway.

"I get nightmares," he whispers. "I get nightmares of being thrown out again, Director." Sakuya's breathing is heavy, and he sounds like he's trying to not cry. With every word that he utters, Izumi feels her heart crack, shatter into a million different pieces because she knows that Sakuya deserves to feel loved.

Yet all he's ever experienced was to get thrown out, to become someone that never really mattered in another's life. He's told her before that his family wouldn't care even if he disappeared. And Izumi's heart breaks a little more.

"I feel so unwanted. I feel that there isn't a place that could love me for what I am and what I can give, director," he says. He's only looking at his mug, avoiding Izumi's gaze as he continues to talk. He breathes in shakily, knowing that his tears are threatening to fall any time soon.

"I d-don't belong a-anywhere," he breathes out. Along with this, his tears flow, and his hands grip the mug tightly. He doesn't show Izumi his face, hoping that she wouldn't notice the waterworks his eyes are producing right now. But with the way he's hiccuping, and his erratic breathing, it's impossible that Izumi doesn't see him trying to catch his breath.

She doesn't say anything, and gently she peels the mug away from his hands as he continues to sob. She wasn't used to this — seeing one of MANKAI's sunshines letting his tears show, falling like the rain. She isn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, so hurt, so pained — aching. She isn't used to him being like this that she forgets that Sakuya is still a child. A child that longs for love, a child that needs a place to be himself in, a child that yearns to be held when no one has ever held him.

So Izumi does.

She pulls him into a hug, her hand gently running up and down his back in an attempt to calm him. It was a long time before Sakuya embraces her back, letting the tears flow on her shoulder, and letting himself sob after a long time of solely carrying this burden on his own. When Sakuya clenches his fist as he sobs harder, his thoughts entering his mind once more, Izumi gently rocks Sakuya to and fro, like a mother rocking her baby to sleep, and she doesn't pinpoint when her tears started to flow down her cheeks as well.

Izumi lets him cry, and she transfers her hand to run down his hair, wanting to comfort him.

"Here," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You belong here, Sakuya. _With us._ "

She doesn't remove herself from the hug even if Sakuya tries to let go. And she continues. She wants to let him know that he belongs here. With them. With MANKAI.

"We can be your home. Your place here is solely for you, Sakuya. No one can ever replace you."

She shakily breathes in, composing herself before she speaks again, "We... we will always love you for who you are. And everything that comes in between. You're not just the Spring Troupe's leader, you're also our friend. A big brother. Our family."

Izumi doesn't stop herself from pulling him in a tighter hug when he feels his nod on her shoulder. "Okay, Sakuya? We're your home."

"Mm," he hums, his breathing normalizing as he finally pulls away, his eyes bloodshot from crying too hard. Izumi laughs as he sees his eyes, and Sakuya could only smile back in return, thankful for the crying fest that he shared with his director.

"Thank you, Director," he says, and Izumi, like the shining sun that she is, only smiles. "Always, Sakuya, 'mkay?"

Sakuya nods, no words needed as he picks up his mug again, drinking. They share another comfortable silence before he yawns, the sleep wanting to overtake him. He silently asks for permission to sleep, and Izumi lets him, even escorting him to his room as she bids him good night.

* * *

It still haunts him, in his dreams.

It still manifests in the places that he doesn't have control of and the disappointment still strikes him every single time.

But when it does not, he dreams of himself and the family he's found, underneath the big sakura tree in the courtyard, as the stars and the moon shine brightly in the night sky.

He dreams of the night when he cried to Izumi, and remembers the words she embedded into his mind, and the taste of warm milk seeping into his mouth and into his body, comforting him from his nightmares.

Sakuya thinks that everything will be fine. And someday he'll think that he is, and he will be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why i did this but know that i love him so much i crave for his happiness every single day that i live. i love him.


End file.
